Little Moments
by SpencerRemyLvr
Summary: A gift fic for IntoTheWilds with the prompt "Hmm could you write a one-shot with a teenage/mutant Spencer (fourteen or fifteen) who's living on the streets and gets attacked and it's the BAU preferably Hotch and Morgan who save his butt, obviously that makes it somewhat AU" and somehow it turned from a one shot to a potential 3-4 shot. More info inside! :)
1. Chapter 1

_Now originally this started out as a prompt for a one-shot and then it took on a life of its own. I don't know if the end result is what you were looking for, sugar bee, but I hope you like what you get! This should end up being about three chapters total, I think._

_This is a major AU, guys. Spencer is young, his backstory is tweaked just a tiny bit, and he never went to the BAU. The BAU team is going to make a major appearance in here. There are no X-men that appear in this story, either, sorry. For the major part of the story Spencer's only fourteen years old and he is definitely a mutant._

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><p>All it took was one day to change eleven year old Spencer Reid's life. Well, just a few short hours, really. Just a few hours and everything that he knew, everything that made up his life, changed. It didn't seem right to him that something so monumental could happen in such a short time, and with so little effect on the rest of the world. As melodramatic as he knew it was, it didn't seem fair that the world around him kept moving or that people went happily about their lives while his world was ripped apart. Couldn't they see? Didn't they know?<p>

There should have been some kind of warning. Something to tell him just what waited for him. But when Spencer woke up that morning, the sun was bright and the day was warming. He started his day out just as he had any other day. Being on winter break from school, he had fallen into a routine in his days. Each morning he woke, made his way to the bathroom and took the time to wake up with a shower. Once he'd showered, dressed, and brushed his teeth, he would head to the kitchen and start preparations for breakfast. By eight fifteen, never any later, he had a tray ready for her. He'd put his sunglasses on, because there was no telling what kind of mindset she'd be in and sometimes seeing the all black eyes that the young boy possessed scared her, and then he would carry the tray up to his mother's room to begin the process of trying to not only get her to eat, but to take her medication as well. That usually took an hour all on its own. From there, she would go back to sleep for a few hours and he'd take care of any household chores, any laundry that had built, and then back to his mother for lunch, after which he'd try to draw her out for a walk, or maybe to come and sit in the living room a while. But that fateful afternoon, none of it went right.

Instead of the usual walk they tried to take, Spencer's plans were interrupted by a knock on the door. He had no idea what opening that door would do to his life. When the preteen answered it, he was both surprised and instantly worried to find a woman and three officers on the other side. "Oh! Hello." Nerves had him biting the inside of his lip. With one hand he brushed his hair back from his face and checked to make sure that his sunglasses were still firmly in place, hiding the pure black orbs that gave away his mutant genetics, and he reminded himself to keep calm. The woman had the look of CPS to her and he'd dealt with plenty of CPS in his time. He knew how to handle them.

The woman took the lead, the officers standing quietly behind her. "Hello there. You must be Spencer. My name's Janice and I'm with DCFS. Do you think we could come in for a minute?"

Spencer gave a quick, grateful prayer that today was one of his mom's good days. Diana didn't seem to be having any hallucinations or bouts of paranoia today, thankfully. She'd actually been eager to go for their walk and had been talking about maybe making a trip to the library. Bracing a hand on the door, Spencer pulled it wide and stepped back. "Um, sure, come on in."

"Thank you." Janice led the way in, the officers following her. The group went straight to the living room and Spencer found himself once more pinned by their eyes. He noticed that Janice took a look around before settling on him, though. _Let her look_ he thought to himself. _I already did my cleaning. There's nothing out of place here_. The look she gave him made him nervous, though. Those nerves got worse when she spoke in a syrupy sweet voice and asked him "Is your mother around?"

"Yes, ma'am." Spencer answered promptly. "She's upstairs getting ready to head out. We were going to take a walk and maybe go to the library this afternoon."

Before anyone else could say anything, Diana Reid strolled into the room, looking tired and wary, yet her eyes were clear in a way that had Spencer sighing in relief. At the same time, he wished vehemently that the officers and Janice would leave so that he could take advantage of this time with his mother. Not only was she clear minded, she was awake and up and he wanted to take every advantage of it. He didn't need the officers to trigger a paranoid episode in her. If that happened, she could spend the rest of the day locked in her room or the bathroom again, and it would take him forever to coax her out.

Diana moved to stand beside Spencer, one hand going to rest on his shoulder while her eyes stayed on the four adults in her living room. "Can I help you? Spencer and I were just preparing to leave."

What came next was, for Spencer, what felt like the beginning of the end. "Actually, Mrs. Reid, I'm terribly sorry to have to tell you this, but we're here because of allegations that have been made. Because of the amount and severity of these allegations, we're going to have to take Spencer with us, pending our investigation."

Everything went a little blank after those first words. Spencer knew people were still talking, but he couldn't understand them. All he could hear was this strange buzzing in his ears. One thought was clear in his head—they were going to take him away. After all these years, after countless times they'd fended off reports and visitors and anything that could separate them, the day had finally come. A small part of him knew, had always known, that this day would come. But the bigger part of him was gripped with absolute terror. They were going to take him away. They were going to take him away from his Mom.

Reality returned to Spencer with a snap when he heard his mother screaming. She was shouting at them all, demanding they leave her house, and screaming out insults that had him cringing. It only took a look to see the look on her face and to understand that she wasn't in her rational mind right now. He had time for a brief mental curse before he threw himself at her, trying to get between her and everyone else. He'd barely connected with her when hands were grabbing at him and yanking him backwards. One of the officers had Spencer's arm and was pulling him back and away from Diana. The man ignored Spencer's shouts and struggles and pulled him back, towards the door, while the other two officers were restraining Diana, who started to scream even louder. And Spencer realized then that the officers hadn't been here for his mother; they'd been here to restrain him, to hold back the young boy with the black eyes, the mutant whose powers hadn't manifested yet and who might trigger underneath the stress of this.

It ripped at Spencer's insides to see his mother screaming and sobbing, pinned against the wall. He began to struggle against the man holding him like his very life depended on it. "Mom!" he shouted over the noise. "Let her go! Please, let her go! You're going to hurt her! Let her go!" But an eleven year old, scrawny boy stood no chance against the strength of an adult male police officer. In no time, Spencer found himself inside the back of a cop car, the only place the cop could think of to put him that he wouldn't be able to escape and race back towards his mother. It was there that Spencer sat, screaming and banging against the window, as paramedics showed up, and he was still screaming when the social worker came out with a bag of his things which she took with her to her car. Then, without even the chance to hug his mother goodbye one last time, the officer came back and Spencer was taken away.

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><p>Spencer was taken to a home that was explained to him as an 'emergency placement'. Essentially, it was a place he wouldn't be at long. This was a home that was open for people who had to be removed quickly and needed somewhere to stay until more accommodations were found. Despite his eidetic memory, which didn't typically allow him to forget anything, Spencer had no true memory of the next week. It all seemed to run in a blur for him. He knew there were doctor appointments that he attended, and interviews where he was questioned about his home life. He didn't really remember if he answered them or not. All he knew was the thick cloud of grief that wrapped around him.<p>

One thing that he did know, the only thing that truly came through clearly for him, was that he wasn't going home. They told him that his mother was hospitalized and undergoing evaluation. He remembered Janice talking to him, telling him they would speak to his father about going home with him. Then he remembered her next visit and she was telling him that they had a group home he could go to and he had snorted to himself, because he'd known his father would never take him. The man had left because he'd been unable to handle a sick wife and a mutant son. Why would he take that son now?

So it was that Spencer went from emergency placement into a group home. "Just until our evaluations are complete." He was told.

He knew better.

There would be no going back home for him. Not once they were done evaluating his mom. He knew her condition better than even her doctor had. With her doctor, Diana lied, covering the episodes she had and how bad they could be. Spencer had been there day in and day out. Since his father left when he was ten, walking away from his family with only a note and no backwards glance, Spencer had dealt with his mother's condition all on his own. A little over a year, and he'd been her primary caregiver. That part of him knew that she was far sicker than she'd ever admitted, and that part knew that they would put her into a home. She wasn't capable of living on her own. Sometimes, when he lay in his bed in the middle of the night in this strange home, Spencer could even admit to himself that it was better for her. In a care facility, she would be taken care of properly. She'd get what she truly needed from people who knew what they were doing. But mostly, he ached to go home. He ached to go back to a place where he was loved and accepted for who he was.

Despite horror stories he'd heard, the group home that Spencer was in wasn't that bad. There were only two other kids and they were both younger than him, so he had no worries about older bullies, and they avoided him anyways because of his eyes. He was used to that. The house parents were nice enough. They tried to draw the young genius out of the shell he'd pulled around himself. Spencer simply refused to open up to them. Ever since he'd been taken from his home, he'd pulled inside of himself, cutting off his emotions. There was no way he was going to let them be out in the open the way he had that afternoon. He wouldn't let them all see just how badly he was hurting. He'd show them just how okay he was, how capable, and maybe, just maybe, things would work out. He told himself that all the time, even though he knew it was a lie.

That lie got him through the first month away from his mother. It got him through learning a new routine of helping around this new house. It got him through the long nights where he wanted nothing more than to curl into a ball and sob out his heartache. It got him through the meetings with Janice, who he was really growing to despise. That lie carried him straight through until, two months to the day after he'd first been taken, he was one again being moved. Only this time, he was going to a foster home.

"You'll be staying with the Walters." Janice had informed him. "They're nice people. They don't have any other kids at the moment, so you'll be the only one there, and they're very understanding about your _condition_. They're very happy to take you and I think you're going to like it there very much."

Spencer didn't argue with her. He didn't voice the thoughts he had about how he didn't care how 'understanding' they were and how he didn't have a _condition_. He didn't tell her that it didn't matter how nice these people were or how happy they were to have him—they weren't his Mom.

But he knew his part in this. When they pulled up outside of an average looking home in the suburbs of North Las Vegas, Spencer kept his opinion of the cookie cutter two story houses to himself. He just grabbed the single duffle bag he had out of the backseat and he followed Janice up to the front door of his new home.

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><p>*Two Years Later*<p>

Time didn't pass easily for the young genius. In the two years since that day, Spencer's life had changed so drastically. The kid he'd been when he first showed up on that doorstep, quiet and grieving, had quickly been buried underneath the new him. The one that did anything necessary to survive. Because staying in that home became all about survival. For a while, he had an escape, though it wasn't much of one. He'd had his schooling. But he graduated and then he'd had nothing to keep him away from that home. At twelve years old, there was no way he'd be let out on his own, he wasn't old enough to get a job, and he'd just completed his high school education. There was nothing to save him from his home life. He was trapped here in a world that had become hell. A world that was all about pain.

Pain, bruises and blood, had all become far too commonplace since he'd come to the Walters household. It had taken a half a day here before he'd been slapped for the first time, and only twenty four hours before his first 'whipping'. It had taken a month before the other stuff had started. A month before he'd been taken to that ratty little mattress in the basement and he'd learned just what kind of horrors a grown man could inflict on a child.

He had tried to fight it. Oh, God, had he fought. With every bit of strength in his small body, he'd fought the man as his clothes were tugged at and as he was pushed down onto the bed. He'd read enough books, even ones that his mother hadn't seen him reading that were in the adult section of the library, that he knew just what was going on. He'd threatened Gil loudly, swearing that he'd tell. He'd tell his teachers, the cops, anyone and everyone who would listen. Gil hadn't even been bothered by his threats. No, he'd simply sat back on his heels and told Spencer quite simply that no one was going to believe a whining mutant kid. The stark truth of that had been undeniable. Spencer had lived with that truth his whole life. Why should it be any different then?

A month later was when he ran away for the first time. He'd managed to stay out for two whole weeks before they caught him and brought him back. He'd simply run away again. When he was brought back that time, Gil had locked him down in the basement for days, and Spencer had been so sure there was no way in hell he was ever going to get out again. He was sure his life was going to become nothing more than the pain that visited him here. But he played a good boy and bided his time and, eventually, they let him upstairs once more. He didn't waste the first chance that came along—he saw an opening and he ran. That time he stayed hidden for six months before they took him back. Six months of living on the street. So much had changed during that time, but none more important changes than one:

His powers kicked in.

The awakening of his powers had been a terrifying thing for him to experience at first. Especially since he hadn't had any idea what they were. He hadn't had a neat little title to put to it. All he'd known was that suddenly it seemed as if he was being bombarded by a thousand voices all around him. It was bad enough that he had to shut himself away in his little bolt hole that he'd found, as far away from people as possible, and yet still they didn't stop. Then he'd started seeing things. Or, not thing, not really. _People_. People that he knew weren't there. People that he could only describe as ghosts, though his logical mind rebelled at that. They'd tried to talk to him, to come to him, but like a child he'd close his eyes and cover his ears and block them out, wishing with everything in him that they were gone, and somehow, when he opened his eyes again, they'd be gone.

For a while, Spencer had been terrified that he was going crazy, that he was seeing and hearing things just like his mother. Only the hope that it was his powers manifesting kept him going. He became determined to find out just what they were. He was determined to find answers.

They hadn't come for days, not until he finally snuck into a library and managed to do a little research. It was there that he first came across the word that would later define what he could do—_Necromancer._

Time and practice proved the title to be a good one. Spencer discovered that he didn't just see or hear spirits, he could speak with them and them with him. He could make them stronger, give them the ability to be seen by others, and he could grant them peace to go to their rest, though he didn't presume to know what that 'rest' was. He also found that he could see the spirits _inside _of people. Their souls. That was one area that he never looked further into. He didn't want to know why he felt the energy of those souls or why he was so sure, somewhere in the back of his mind, that he could actually reach out and touch them if he wanted.

It was actually because of those spirits that he learned all this about himself and just what he was capable of. They sensed the power in him and they taught him who he was and what he could do. In that six month gap that he spent on the streets, Spencer came into who he was, and the power of it showed when he was finally caught and brought back to the Walters. Even they could see it. They saw it and they feared him. And in that fear, they became only more cruel, though they no longer tried to stop Spencer running. No matter how many times he was caught and brought back, they never tried to stop him anymore. It was as if they were trying to drive him from their home. Spencer was only too happy to comply. He'd rather live on the streets then spend a single night in that house.


	2. Chapter 2

_Here's the next part. And remember, folks, I don't have a Beta, so this is un-beta'd. :P Enjoy and don't forget to R&R my little sugar bees!_

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><p>"It's time to go to the city of sin and lights. There's a serial killer hunting in the flashy city of Las Vegas."<p>

Penelope Garcia stood in front of a large television monitor with a remote in her hand as she looked around the conference room at the other members of the BAU. Around the round table sat David Rossi, Derek Morgan, Emily Prentiss, Jennifer Jareau and their Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner. A group of profilers who traveled the country helping to hunt down and capture serial killers, rapists, arsonists, and plenty of other 'big bad' as Penelope put it. They all watched as Penelope, their technical analyst—or Garcia, as they called the bubbly and bright young woman—pressed a button and brought up the picture of six different male faces.

"The bodies of six teenage boys have been discovered out in the desert. None of them had been buried." She clicked the remote again and deliberately turned herself so that she couldn't see up on the monitor as the more graphic images came up. "As you can see, all of them were beaten and tortured before they died."

"It says here the cause of death was exsanguination." JJ read off the tablet in her hands where all their information was at. All of them had tables with the case files loaded on to them.

Penelope nodded. "That's right. The coroner's report says that they all died from blood loss for rather, ah, obvious reasons."

"I'd say." Emily swiped her finger over the tablet and switched between pictures. "Talk about rage. This was personal for him."

"It gets worse with each progressive kill. He's starting to enjoy himself. They started two weeks apart, then ten days, then five, now just three since the last kill." Dave said.

Aaron looked up from his tablet and his sharp gaze swept over his team. "He's coming into his own. Pretty soon, whatever drove him at first isn't going to be necessary anymore. It won't matter. He'll kill just for the sake of killing. That's why Vegas PD requested our help. It's been two days since his last murder and there's no telling when he'll kill again. We need to get out there and get a handle on this as soon as possible before the Unsub devolves into a killing spree. Everyone gather your things; wheels up in thirty."

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><p>The BAU team wasted no time once they arrived in Vegas. Aaron had them moving quickly. Dave and JJ were sent to the morgue to view the bodies while Derek and Emily he sent to interview the only family, the one for the first victim, Beau. No family had been able to be located yet for the others and that was something that Aaron called in to Penelope and had her starting a search on. Aaron himself went to the station to speak with the chief and get things started there. He was going to run victimology and try to get things running from this end while his team gathered information.<p>

It was quickly apparent that all five of their victims were street boys. Their youngest was fifteen while the oldest was eighteen. The others fell in between that bracket. They were all darker haired, some brown some black, and they were all of average build, neither big nor small. Those were the first things that became apparent when Aaron got all the pictures put up on the evidence board. "Well he definitely has a type." He told the police chief, Chief Hardison, who was standing beside him.

"Looks that way to me." Hardison agreed.

"It seems to be the build and hair that are important. Not the eyes or the rest of their looks." Looking back and for the between the pictures, Aaron drew them in, letting them build on the information in his mind.

"Does figuring all this out help you?"

Aaron nodded without looking away from the pictures. "The more we understand about his victims, the more we figure out about him. If we can figure out what drew him to these particular victims and why, we'll be one step closer to catching him. I've got our technical analyst digging through the lives of these boys as bet as she can. Hopefully we can find somewhere where they all crossed paths. If we do, that might be where our Unsub met them."

The chief snorted and shook his head. There was a frustrated look on his face as he took his glasses off and cleaned them on the bottom of his shirt. "Best of luck to her with that one. We weren't able to find out much of anything on these boys. They spent most of their time on the streets, best as we can figure. We can't even really find any family for most of them. It's sad, but not uncommon. Lots of kids either get left here, or they come here thinking it'll be easier to make a living in a busy city like this. Reality isn't usually what they thought."

"It never is." Aaron murmured. He looked at the boys and as always he couldn't help but wonder what it was that sent them away from home. What made them feel that life on the streets was their only option? It was at moments like these when he saw the horror that these kids had to live with that he vowed to do everything possible to make sure that his son never felt that running away like this was his only choice. No matter what happened, no matter what Jack did, Aaron looked at these pictures and promised himself yet again that he would always strive to make sure his son knew he was loved and accepted no matter what.

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><p>They had only been in town for a few hours when the next body turned up. Only this time it was found out in the desert. It was found tossed down by a dumpster like yesterday's garbage. Aaron, Emily and Derek stood looking at the body of the young teenage boy, no more than sixteen, and they all ached inside. Years of doing this job gave them the ability to push that ache down and do what it was they knew they had to do. They ignored the police, for the most part, and they ignored the crowd that was being held back by caution tape and officers, and they focused on their job. "He spent less time with this one." Emily pointed out, moving to squat down beside the body. "But his kills are getting more violent. It's less about the torture and more about the kill, now."<p>

"He's dumping in town now; he's getting bolder." Aaron said.

"This one was for us." The words stuck in Derek's throat, hard to say because he knew the truth and he hated it. Yet his tone never wavered. He never gave any indication of just how much he hated the fact that this young man had been killed quicker and more brutally as a taunt to law enforcement.

Emily nodded her agreement. "He's telling us that he doesn't care that we're here."

"You can't stop me." Derek murmured, eyes drifting over the body and then upwards, to the scene around him. It was habit after all these years to scan the crowd that had gathered. Most of them were the usual kind of onlookers, those either curious or horrified or both. But he'd been trained to look for the ones that stood out. People that were _too_ interested or people that seemed to be enjoying what they saw. Plenty of criminals came back to visit the scene of their crimes and it wasn't uncommon for an Unsub to show up and watch the reactions that his crime got. This had been a deliberate taunt to the police, dumping the body here, so there was a chance the Unsub might be here to watch how they reacted to it.

He didn't see anyone in the crowd that fit was he was taught to look for. However, he did see someone that caught his interest. A young teenage boy standing off to the side of the crowd and mostly sheltered at the edge of the alley. He was bundled up in baggy looking clothes yet they didn't fully hide the slender body. He looked like he was eleven, _maybe_ twelve, and he kept himself drawn in as if afraid to step fully out of the shadows. What little of his face that Derek could see past the sunglasses and the shaggy brown hair had a gaunt, half-starved look to it, and there was a look of such sorrow there. That was what had really caught Derek's attention.

The profiler turned himself a little, looking over at Aaron who he saw was already watching him. "You see him?" Derek asked.

Aaron's eyes flickered briefly over Derek's shoulder and then came back to his face. "Go ahead."

That was all he had to say. Years of working together, the whole team had perfected some of those looks and tones that spoke volumes. Derek knew that Aaron saw the same thing in the boy that he had, the same potential for information. There was no way this scrawny kid could be their Unsub. But judging by the sorrow on his face, he either knew the victim lying here on the ground, or he knew something else. What he knew could potentially help them break the case. It was a lead he had to follow up on.

He should've been more careful, though. He was a little over halfway there when the kid turned his head just slightly and Derek knew that he'd been spotted. To his complete surprise, though he saw the kid tense, he didn't leave. His whole body was practically screaming with the urge to run and yet he stood there and let Derek come up to him. The only sign of movement that he did was a slight quirk of his head as if he were listening to something and then he gave a visible sigh but he stayed right there.

Derek dipped under the tape and skirted around the edge of the crowd. When he got close to the kid, he got a better look and he realized his first assessment was a bit off in some places and dead on in others. This kid was half-starved, no doubt about that. His face was way too thin and the wrists that he could see looked like they'd take almost nothing to snap. Yet he'd been completely wrong about age. Though the kid was small—he had to be somewhere around 5' and he couldn't way more than eighty or ninety pounds—he wasn't eleven. If Derek had to wager a guess, he'd say thirteen or fourteen. He was just very small for his age. But there were certain things in his features, in his body, that gave a pretty good clue as to age.

The profiler stopped right in front of him and tried to look as friendly as possible. "Hey there, kid. How's it going?" He paused and the kid didn't say anything, didn't do anything but stand there and presumably watch him from behind those shades. That was fine. Derek had interviewed reluctant witnesses before. He'd talked to countless scared kids, street kids, and plenty of other kinds of kids. It was a part of the job. A hard part, generally, as the kids he usually talked to had either seen or experienced something horrible, but it was a part he had to do. He knew better than to let the silence put him off. "My names Derek Morgan, I'm with the FBI. I couldn't help but notice you over here watching. Did you know our victim there?"

For a short beat he wasn't sure if the kid was going to answer that, either. Then, in a soft voice, Derek heard "Willy." The kid's head tipped up and Derek knew the eyes behind the shades were fixed right on his face now. "His name is Willy."

Ah, so he'd been right, the kid did know their victim. That explained the sorrow written on his face. "I'm sorry."

One slender shoulder shrugged. "Why? You didn't kill him." The boy said in the same soft voice.

"No, I didn't." Derek agreed, just slightly amused by the practical way the kid had said that. "But I can still be sorry for your loss." Again he paused to let the kid respond, and this time he got a dip of the head. Taking that as a kind of encouragement, Derek pressed onwards. "What's your name?"

The way the kid's whole body suddenly seemed to tense once more was very, very telling. Derek got the impression that he was ready to bolt again. Then the same thing happened that had happened before. The kid tipped his head just a little like he was listening to something, though Derek heard nothing different in the sounds around them, and he relaxed just the slightest bit. Whatever he'd heard had eased him enough to stay. His attention fixed back onto Derek once more. "That's a dangerous question to ask on these streets, Agent Morgan. It can be even more dangerous to answer it." He said in that soft voice. He sounded almost…shy. His words, however, were anything but. It was a startling contrast. His chin lifted just the slightest bit like he was trying to gather up his courage. "I'm Spencer."

There was no doubt that Spencer had just given him a huge amount of trust. He didn't treat it lightly. "Thank you, Spencer." He said, wanting the kid to understand that he knew what he'd been given here. He saw Spencer give a small nod and knew his message had gotten across. With this little bit of report built between them now, Derek moved towards the important questions. "Did you know Willy well?"

Spencer blew out a breath and gave another small shrug. "We talked a few times."

"Did he live out here on the streets?"

"Not here. He used the shelter down the block."

"Do you know if he was having any trouble lately? Someone bothering him, maybe, or someone following him around?"

Spencer shook his head. "If he did, he never mentioned it to me. But it'd been a few days since we were able to meet up and talk. I don't…go to the shelters." One corner of his mouth quirked upwards in a smile that wasn't really a smile. "I'm sorry I'm not more help, Agent."

"It's fine." Derek reassured him. He looked Spencer over again and he felt compelled to ask "Do you have somewhere safe to stay? Somewhere I can drop you off, maybe? The streets aren't exactly safe right now."

He was surprised to see Spencer actually smile a little. "I'm not worried, Agent Morgan."

"Things are dangerous out here right now, kid."

"Things are always dangerous. I'm not worried about your killer. So far he's only taken boys between 15 and 18 who all worked as prostitutes down near Shiny's Corner," Spencer said, referring to the section of Vegas that Derek had learned from the cops was run by a pimp known as Shiny. "I've steered clear of there and I've put out the word with others to do the same." He must've noticed Derek's surprised look because a corner of his mouth quirked up and was that a hint of color in those pale cheeks now? "Being on the streets doesn't make us all stupid, agent. We notice things."

"I wasn't trying to imply you were stupid, Spencer." Derek hurried to reassure him. "You just filled in the blank for us that we were missing. We didn't know that all the kids worked down on that corner."

Spencer hesitated for a second and there was clear indecision on his face. Whatever it was he was thinking about he made his decision quickly. It only took a second before that indecision faded away and his expression turned neutral once more. "They didn't all just work there. They were all trying to leave. Chris and Trey got an apartment together and Trey had just got a real job. They were going to go clean. Nate, Beau, Willy and Eliot were all planning on leaving town the last I'd heard. They'd all paid the free to go, too."

"Fee?"

"Shiny's not like most pimps. He'll let his people go so long as they pay a fee. Kind of like they're buying out their contract. They'd all paid. He wouldn't have killed them afterwards. It'd be bad for business." The last part was said with a cynical sound to it that someone so young shouldn't have. Spencer tipped his head once more, taking that 'listening pose' again, and when he spoke his voice screamed hesitance with every word. "You might want to take a look at repeat Johns. Talk to the others and see if anyone remembers someone that favored them all. Someone might've gotten upset if he heard they were leaving."

Every instinct that Derek had was now on high alert. They were screaming at him that this kid knew a hell of a lot more than he'd been letting on. They were telling him to get this kid out of here and somewhere that he could question him more formally. He never got the chance to ask, though. Just as he opened his mouth, he felt someone brush up against his back and he spun around to see what it was only to find that there was no one there. When he turned back, Spencer was gone.

* * *

><p>Derek was still mulling over the kid and what he'd said when he and Aaron got back to the station. He waited until the team was gathered in the conference room they were using to tell everyone about what he'd learned. He'd walked them through the whole conversation, right up to the end, when the door the conference room opened and the main detective on the case, Detective Oswald, came in. He caught the tail end of what Derek was saying and he suddenly perked up when Derek said Spencer's name. "Did you say Spencer?" He repeated.<p>

The way he asked that had the attention of every profiler in the room. All eyes were on him when Aaron asked "Do you know him?"

Oswald looked around at the others before turning his bright green eyes to Derek. "Was he about five foot, mostly starved looking, with shaggy hair and dark sunglasses?"

"Yeah." That was a pretty accurate description of the teen.

Whistling lowly, Oswald stopped at the end of the table and his expression was clearly surprised. "You said he actually spoke to you?"

"Yeah. We talked for a little bit there. Is that something important?"

"Just strange." Oswald said. "Spencer doesn't talk to anyone anymore." He must've seen the odd looks that he was getting from the different faces around the room because he hurried to explain. "Spencer's been through here quite a bit. We've picked him up a few times and taken him back home. He lives in a foster home down on the edge of town."

"He doesn't look like he's been living in any home. He looks like he's been living on the streets." Derek's voice was firm and just a bit sharp. There was something about Oswald's voice, about the way he talked about this kid, that put Derek's back up. He just couldn't put his finger on what it was.

The detective didn't take offense to the tone, if he even noticed it at all. He nodded at Derek's words. "Yeah. He's a chronic runaway, that one. We take him back when we catch him, but he just runs again once we drop him off and there's not really anything we can do to stop it. Social services had been out there a few times and they can't find any reason why he keeps running."

"There's got to be some reason." Emily pointed out. Her voice had gone a bit sharp, too, an echo of Derek's annoyance. "Kids don't just run for no reason."

Oswald actually shrugged at that. Shrugged! Like it wasn't some big deal. Like it was no skin off his nose if some kid was running around on the streets instead of staying home safe. "He's a troubled kid." The detective told them. "He was taken from his mom a few years back when she was put in a sanitarium and the kid's not…he's not quite right, either. He just sort of gets overlooked. It's sad, but it's not uncommon with mutant kids."

"Mutant?" The word slipped from Derek before he could stop it. He hadn't realized the kid was a mutant!

"Yeah. That's why he wears the sunglasses. It hides his eyes. He doesn't have normal eyes; there's no color, no white, they're just straight black. It's, well, honestly it's creepy."

Those words caused an instant tension in the room. Not a single one of the profilers carried a prejudice against mutants. Too many times they'd see people hurt for being different while on their job. It didn't exactly leave any room for intolerance in them. How could they hate someone for being different? They'd seen some of the worst humanity had to offer and they knew it wasn't restricted to one gender, one race, one anything. No one group of people was any better or worse than the other. All people were capable of horrible things no matter their skin color, their gender, or whether or not they were a mutant. This job had taught them that. To see a law enforcement officer, someone who was sworn to protect and serve, talk that way about someone, it didn't sit well with any of them.

"Excuse me?" JJ asked in a tone much sharper than the kind woman usually had.

Derek took a more direct approach. "Creepy?"

"Listen, I've got nothing against mutants." Oswald hurried to reassure them all. "But that kid in there is creepy. It's not just those eyes of his, it's the way he has of looking at you, or looking right through you. He sees things that aren't there."

That struck a bit of a chord in Derek. He remembered the way that Spencer had kept tipping his head, like he was listening to something that wasn't there.

Dave made a sound that was halfway between a scoff and a snort and he shook his head. "And you're surprised that he doesn't talk to you guys?" He said dryly. Before anyone could speak, he raised a hand and waved it through the air. "We're getting off topic here. This kid's mutation isn't the issue. The information he gave, though, _is._ It sounds to me like he gave some pretty solid info that we should work with."

"Dave's right." Aaron agreed. He straightened up in his seat and he took control of the situation. "The kid's suggestion was a good one, too. We should get out there tonight and talk with the other boys in this area and see if any of them noticed anyone hanging around. A car, a John, something that might be suspicious. I'll have Garcia do a search on this Shiny, too, just in case."

"I'll get together some officers to go with you." Oswald offered.

"Good. Let's meet up in two hours, then. It's almost dark."

* * *

><p>That tip proved to be a damn good one. Five hours later, as Derek stared through the window into interrogation where their suspect sat, he knew they had one quiet street kid to thank for the ease with which they'd captured their Unsub. Not just because of the tip Spencer had given, but because when they hit the streets that night they found that somehow word had been spread that they were safe to talk to. At first, it had seemed like no one was going to talk to them. People caught sight of the local police officers and they tried to run. But then one of them had stopped and he'd stopped the others around him too, telling them "Wait a second, guys. It's not just cops." Then he'd looked at Derek and bluntly asked "Are you one of the Feds?"<p>

"I am." Derek had held his credentials out for them all to see. "SSA Derek Morgan."

He'd been shocked when everyone immediately started to relax. One of the boys, no more than fourteen, had explained "Big Mike told us you'd be coming. He said to trust the feds; that you were here to help."

Though Derek hadn't known who Big Mike was, he hadn't been about to look a gift horse in the mouth. The kids were answering questions and that was what mattered. It didn't take long to get their information, either. To start noticing the same car cropping up in multiple different interview and to call that car in to Penelope. The partial plate that one young woman remembered was the final piece to the puzzle. It was the piece that gave them enough to narrow Penelope's search and give them the car they were looking for, registered to a thirty five year old lawyer named George Drescott.

It had been as they'd been getting ready to leave that Derek had come across 'Big Mike'. The man lived up to his name. He was close to Derek in height and built like a Mack truck. But his eyes had been friendly when he'd greeted Derek as casually as if they were old friends meeting at a party. Derek had shaken his hand and, of course, thanked him for his help. "I appreciate what you did, letting everyone know to talk to us. It really helped."

Big Mike had looked over to the police officer near Derek and then back at the agent. With an amused quirk of the lips, he said "No problem, agent. A mutual friend of ours gave me the heads up that you guys would be coming around asking questions. He knew I could spread the word to get people to talk to you. The others out here wouldn't have listened to him, but I've learned to trust him."

And that was the second reason that Derek knew they owed Spencer a thank you. He hadn't been the one to spread the word, so to speak, but he'd gone to a person he'd known would be able to do it for him and had made sure the man had spread the word for him. Without that, they might never have been able to get any kind of information out of these kids. Their distrust of the police was too strong. It spoke loudly of their treatment at the hands of law enforcement.

On the other side of the glass, the door to the interrogation room opened. Derek drew his thoughts back to the present moment as he watched David Rossi make his way into the room. David was their best at interrogation. They had probable cause to hold this man and hopefully enough to help push through the search warrant that Aaron was currently calling in, but a confession would go a long way. If there was anyone who could get it, it would be David. There was no one better. Slipping his hands into his pockets, Derek adjusted his stance and got comfortable as David shut the door and the show began. The Unsub didn't stand a chance.


	3. Chapter 3

_Okay, so I lied. Apparently there's going to be another chapter after this. I couldn't wrap it all up in one more chapter. Glad you're liking it so far :) Thank IntoTheWilds for the idea! She's where all this was born from :) But thank you for the reviews, guys. I love hearing what you think._

* * *

><p>It had been all over the news this morning when Spencer had slipped out to find himself some breakfast. Local police and FBI bring in suspect for questioning. Serial killer caught! The headlines were everywhere. How they got their information so fast, he had no idea, and he honestly didn't care. Just seeing it was enough to have him smiling. Spencer stood outside a shop window and watched the screens within as they played the news story. He felt a faint warmth build at his side and he knew there was a spirit there now without even having to look.<p>

"_They caught him_." Gabe's voice said beside him. "_Because of your help, Spencer. I told you that talking to that agent was a good idea. You've helped save a lot of lives._"

A low flush built on Spencer's cheeks and he ducked his head just a bit with embarrassment. This wasn't because of anything that _he'd _done. They would've caught the guy on their own eventually. He didn't want to take any credit for it. "I'm just glad they caught him."

"_You're so modest._" Gabe's tone was both fond and amused.

Spencer snuck a look out of the corner of his eye and found the spirit smiling at him. He couldn't help but smile back. There was just something about the man that was so cheerful. He had curly blond hair and blue eyes that were so bright even in the transparent spirit form, and he had a look to him that said he was always on the verge of a smile or a laugh. Many a time his cheerful disposition had kept Spencer going when life seemed hard. He'd been there to talk to Spencer through some of the longer nights and to help him through the moments when he didn't think he could keep going, moments when the bad far outweighed the good and the youth wanted nothing more than to curl up and give up. Gabe would talk to him and help him; he'd remind him of the good and help him to keep on going. He was also one of the ones that had really helped Spencer explore his powers and learn what he could and couldn't do with them.

Gabe was one of his favorite of all his 'visitors', as he called them. There were a few spirits that came back for repeated visits. Gabe was one that he saw pretty much every day. The man was in his thirties, the age he'd been when he'd died, and according to him he'd been here for a long, long time. He was also one of the few who was content to continue here. "_I promised my wife I'd watch out for our family_." He told Spencer once. "_That promise didn't break simply because I died_."

Breaking his gaze away from the screens, Spencer tried to push thoughts of the killer and of that nice agent that he'd met to the back of his mind. There was no point in standing here thinking about it. Now that the case was solved the guy would go home. Still, it had been nice to talk to someone again. Someone who _didn't_ shy away from him or look at him with either disgust or fear. Those were what he usually saw on people's faces. Even the local law enforcement. And the older he got, the worse it got, because people knew that mutants came into their powers around puberty. So they looked at him now and they wondered what his powers were and what it was he could do to them. They wondered just how dangerous he was. He let them wonder; why tell them? Why make them fear him even more?

Gabe's warm voice broke Spencer out of his thoughts. "_Look at you. Such deep thoughts today, little lord._"

The teasing little nickname had Spencer flushing just as it always did. Gabe had been with him once when he'd been doing research on his abilities at the library and in one of the books that Spencer was reading he'd seen a necromancer referred to as a 'lord of the dead'. Ever since then, Gabe had taken to teasingly calling him 'little lord'. "Quit calling me that." Spencer murmured for what felt like the thousandth time. He moved to avoid the oncoming crowd and twisted around a newspaper box. "And I'm just thinking. I'm always thinking."

"_Uh huh. And you're attracting attention again, too, talking to yourself this way._"

That brought Spencer's attention to the fact that he hadn't been murmuring as well as he'd thought he was. More than a few people were giving him strange looks and making sure to give him a wide berth on the sidewalk. There were some faces that clearly showed just how crazy they thought he was. Spencer's flush grew deeper and he ducked his head down a little more. He'd gotten so used to talking to the spirits around him that he sometimes forgot no one else could see or hear them. To the passerby, it would look like he was just carrying on a conversation with himself.

Gabe laughed at his embarrassment. "_I don't know why you still make that slip all the time. You know all it takes is a little effort and you can speak mind to mind with us. Yet time and time again you talk out loud and end up making people think you're crazy._"

_/I don't like talking this way/_ Spencer sent his thought, exerting just a tiny bit of effort. He couldn't project his thoughts to others like a telepath could; his only worked on the dead. _/It's just more…intimate/_

_"__You'll get more comfortable with it if you use it more often."_

_/Talking with you all is generally my only source of conversation. Sometimes I just want to be able to hear my own voice speaking, Gabe, instead of feeling truly mute/_

Gabe conceded the point with a dip of his head. Then, in one of the abrupt topic switches he was known for, he leaned around Spencer and pointed ahead. "_Look! There's a sale on the day-old stuff at the bakery. You still have a few dollars left over, don't you?_"

He did, indeed, have a few dollars in his pocket left over from a ten that a nice old man had given him the other day. Spencer quickened his steps, moving a little more eagerly forward now that he had a destination and the prospect of a real breakfast. He shouldn't have gotten so eager. It distracted him, kept him from paying attention, and that was dangerous for him. There were too many of the kids that wandered the streets that weren't exactly fond of him. Even amongst the mutants. He knew better than to wander anywhere without keeping a careful watch. But he was so damn hungry that he let it get in the way of his common sense and he paid the price for it. He managed to slip into the bakery and actually buy himself a big, fat, day-old muffin, without any trouble, but once he was outside and it came time to eat it, that was when shit hit the fan.

He'd ducked down into an alley to try and find somewhere to hole up and eat this rare treat, but he hadn't thought to check it completely first. He'd just taken his first bite when a sound alerted him to the fact that he wasn't alone. He looked up in just enough time to watch as a hand slapped out and sent his muffin flying into the wall. Spencer's stomach clenched when he saw the food hit the wall and land on the filthy ground in pieces. When he looked up again, he saw just how much trouble he was in. It was Ricardo and his two friends, John and Dion. They were all older boys, just shy of twenty, and they were notorious for their dislike of mutants. Spencer had always done his best to steer clear of them, and they currently had him hedged in between them, the wall and a dumpster. Over their shoulder, Spencer could see Gabe watching and waiting, his face worried. There was nothing he could do here. Not unless Spencer used his powers in a way he tried to never do.

Ricardo stepped forward and sneered down at Spencer. "What the hell are you doing here, freak? This is my part of town. Your kind aint welcome here."

There was no point in trying to act tough with Ricardo. The only thing that would do would be to piss him off even more. The best way to deal with him was for Spencer to let himself look weak. He'd learned a long time ago to sacrifice pride for safety. Too much pride only got you hurt. Better to let yourself be weak and get roughed up a little than to come off as tough and get the beating of a lifetime.

Drawing in on himself and ducking his head down, Spencer made himself smaller, carefully watching Ricardo through his bangs. "I'm sorry, Ricardo. I just, I was just getting something to eat, that's all. I wasn't planning on staying."

"I thought I told you not to come round here no more." Ricardo growled at him. He took a step forward and grinned when Spencer cowered back. "Maybe our lesson didn't sink in enough last time, eh?"

Oh, it had sunk in plenty enough. Spencer had spent days hiding out in his safe place before he'd recovered enough to really get up and move around. Since then, he'd been very, very careful not to be seen when he came through here. _Stupid, stupid, stupid. I should've been paying more attention._ "No, no, it did, I swear it did. I won't come back around here again, Ricardo, I promise."

"I don't know." Ricardo mused, rubbing at his chin. "I think you might need a reminder. What do you think, guys?"

There was no doubt in Spencer's mind where this was going to go. He wasn't the only one to realize it, either. Gabe came to the same conclusion and his shout rose above the voices of the other boys. "_Run, Spencer!_" he cried. Spencer immediately tried to follow the order. He knew even before he took the first step that it wouldn't work, though. They caught him quickly enough and he found himself flung back against the wall and then the fists began to fall. Spencer knew he was small and weaker and he didn't stand a chance again them. He did the only thing he could; he let his body drop down to the ground and he curled in as tightly as he could with his hands up to shelter his face and head. All he could do was curl up tight and hope that it would be over quickly.

He got his wish, though not quite how he'd expected it. One minute he was being pummeled by fists and feet and the next minute a voice shouted "Hey!" and all of it stopped. The next thing Spencer heard was the sound of shoes slapping the pavement as people ran away.

There were more footsteps, these ones a little harder, and they were coming closer instead of getting further away. He quickly drew his arms off his head and hurried to look up to see just who was coming towards him. Who he saw wasn't at all who he expected. That was…holy shit, that was Agent Morgan. And there was someone with him, some dark haired guy in a pretty fancy suit. The one who had been at the crime scene with him before. Spencer sat there and stared up at them in shock. He was so surprised, he didn't even realize that his sunglasses had come off at some point during the scuffle. "Agent Morgan?"

"Spencer!" Derek came right up to him and dropped down to one knee in front of him. "Are you okay?" He reached a hand out like he was going to touch Spencer's arm or his knee and Spencer instinctively flinched backwards to avoid the touch. Derek didn't comment on it. He simply drew his hand back towards himself like he hadn't even been trying to reach out at all.

The other guy came over as well and he squatted down, picking something up off the ground. "Here," He said in a surprisingly gentle voice. He held out the item in his hand and Spencer realized that it was his sunglasses. "I think these might be yours."

Quick as a flash Spencer darted a hand out and snagged them. He got them on his face as fast as he could but he knew it was already too late. These two had seen his eyes. Usually this was the point where people would be backing away from him or running in the opposite direction, or they'd look at him with that lip curl that showed just how disgusting they found him. Some would even spit at him and make the sign of the cross as if they were warding against him. These guys weren't doing any of those things. Derek was still kneeling on one knee and the other guy was still just squatting there and both of them were watching him with a look that Spencer couldn't quite place. It wasn't one that he could really remember seeing all that often. Sometimes people had looked at him that way in the past, before they realized who he was. Or, more accurately, _what_ he was. It never really stuck around long enough for him to actually figure out what it was.

Spencer realized abruptly that he hadn't answered Derek's question and that he'd rudely snatched his glasses away from the other guy without a thank you or anything like that. His cheeks heated with his embarrassment. Gathering his composure with a skill he'd learned these past few years, the youth turned towards the guy he didn't know and he told him "Thank you." Then he looked back at Derek, the very guy he'd been thinking about earlier, and he made himself answer the man's question. "I'm fine, thanks. A little dirty, but fine." It wasn't like a bit more dirt would be all that noticeable. His clothes hadn't been filthy, true, but they weren't in the best of condition. The jeans he wore were worn so badly it was any wonder they hadn't torn yet and they were a little too big for him. His swear was at least two sizes too big, but it was warm and comfortable, and it seemed to have come through this scuffle okay. Most of him had come out okay. Just a few bruises, nothing too serious. His whole right side would be sore for a while as it had taken the brunt of things but there were no broken bones and for that he was grateful. They hadn't had a chance to do and real damage yet.

Very carefully Spencer started to unfold himself. As he did, he tested each limb, trying to discreetly make sure they were all okay. Something in the way the men looked at him told him that no amount of discreet was going to work. Their eyes were too sharp.

He'd looked up the BAU yesterday, after meeting with Derek. He'd been curious to see what they were. What he'd learned had fascinated him. At one point in time, he would've pelted the men with a thousand questions, his eagerness for knowledge overriding anything else. Now, he kept them locked behind his teeth.

The three all rose together, the two adults keeping an eye on the teen, very obviously ready to help him if it looked like he was going to fall. Spencer had to brace a little on the dumpster to get himself fully up to his feet but he did manage it. Like he'd thought, nothing serious, just some bruising. He'd be feeling that for a while.

Once they were all upright again, Derek finally introduced the guy with him. "Spencer, this is my boss, Aaron Hotchner. Hotch, this is Spencer."

"It's nice to meet you, Spencer." Aaron said politely. He didn't hold his hand out, a fact which Spencer was grateful for. He didn't shake hands. He didn't touch at all, really. Not if he could help it. Aaron must've noticed his flinch before and figured it was better not to offer touch at all. "We owe you a debt for your help yesterday. With what you gave us, we were able to catch our Unsub last night. He won't be hurting anyone else anymore."

Embarrassment had Spencer ducking his head and shrugging one shoulder. "I didn't really do anything."

"You did plenty, kid." Derek told him. "Not just the advice, but spreading the word that we were safe to talk to. No one would've spoken to us without that."

His embarrassment grew and his eyes dropped down towards the ground. Because of that, he missed the look that passed between the two profilers over his head. The two men had both noticed the crumbled muffin against the wall and they both had a feeling they knew what had happened here. It wasn't hard to piece together the clues. Just as they both knew that for someone this obviously skinny, a breakfast like this had to be hard to come by. It took just the one look between the two for them to come to a decision. "Why don't you let us thank you?" Derek offered. "We were on our way to breakfast. Why don't you come with us? My treat."

Come with them? Spencer looked up at him with surprise. They were inviting him out to breakfast? "Why?" He couldn't help hos suspicious he sounded there. People didn't just offer breakfast. Then realization hit and his whole body went tense even as his expression locked down into that neutral mask he'd perfected. "You're taking me back."

"We're just offering breakfast." Aaron said. "The rest, we can talk about after."

That sounded slightly ominous. Still, breakfast…his eyes found his ruined breakfast on the ground. Spencer weighed the risk of dealing with profilers against the benefit of being able to eat a whole meal—_in a restaurant. _There was no way someone would kick him out if he was eating with two federal agents, right? He looked down at himself and at his clothes, not exactly his best, and he hesitated. The stern looking one, Aaron, caught his look. "It's fine." He reassured him in this steady, firm voice that should've been a bit scary yet was somehow oddly comforting. "You're fine the way you are, Spencer."

"Just you two?" Spencer asked cautiously.

Derek shook his head. "The others are supposed to join us if they feel up to it. They might, they might not. We celebrated a bit last night."

Ah. Spencer knew enough adult-speak to know that that meant they'd most likely gotten drunk. He'd seen adults 'celebrate' plenty of times

Gabe slid out of the shadows and materialized beside Aaron and only practice kept Spencer from jumping or showing any signs of surprise at the spirit's sudden reappearance. "_Go with them._" The spirit told him, smiling. "_Never turn down a free meal, little lord._" He gave an exaggerated wink and grin with the last comment and Spencer had to try not to chuckle. Gabe was right, though. He'd be foolish to turn down a free meal. Spencer nodded at his friend and then looked back to the agents. "Okay."

* * *

><p>That was how Spencer found himself sitting down the road in a diner he wouldn't have dared step foot in on his own. He got more than a few strange looks when he came in and when he walked through. It had him wanting to discreetly sniff himself. Did he smell bad? He didn't really <em>look<em> that dirty, did he? Sure, his clothes were a bit dirty, but they weren't horrible. And yeah, his hair could do with a wash. But it wasn't like he looked like filth. Plus, his sunglasses were safely on, so no one could see his eyes. So why was it that he got such odd looks? It never made any sense to him. He often felt like he carried some sign that only other people could see that told them that he was trouble or something like that.

Derek must've noticed something on his face. He was sitting across from Spencer at the large table and he offered him a smile that Spencer had a feeling was supposed to be reassuring. "Don't let em get to you, kid. Just ignore em all."

The usual Spencer would've kept quiet at that and just sat with his head down. But there was something about these two, some kindness in Derek's eyes and this aura of strength that the both had that was somehow comforting instead of scary, that prompted just a bit of the old Spencer to peek on through. "I keep feeling like I should check my face to see if there's something there, or try to smell myself to see if there's something that's putting people off." He admitted in his quiet voice.

That startled a laugh from Derek and a small twitch of the lips from Aaron. "There's nothing on your face and I assure you, you don't smell." Aaron reassured him, dark eyes twinkling with a hint of humor in that serious face. Spencer found himself thinking that it took years off the man's age to see that smile in his eyes and lightly ghosting over his lips. It made him look younger and just a bit more approachable. There was something else there, something on his face, that Spencer couldn't quite figure out. What was it? A sudden voice behind him almost made him jump. _"That guy has got to be a father._" Gabe said, dropping down into the empty chair at Spencer's side. "_I know that look. He's not looking at you like an agent worried about a minor; he's looking at you the way a parent would look at a kid when they're worried about them. The two are vastly different._"

A woman came up to the table then and she passed out a few menus, leaving some in a stack at the empty part of the big table when Aaron told her "We're expecting a few others to join us soon." Then she took their drink orders and left them to peruse their menus while she went to fill the drinks. Spencer looked down at the menu lying before him and he found himself just a little hesitant to actually pick it up. "_When was the last time you actually ate in a restaurant like this_?" Gabe asked him softly.

Spencer bit his lip and did a quick mental calculation. "Three years, four months and…seventeen days."

"What was that?" Derek asked.

Oh, man, he'd said that out loud. He'd spoken out loud. Spencer look quickly to Gabe, who was chuckling and shaking his head, and then back down at his menu. He kept his eyes low and said nothing in the hopes that Derek wouldn't press question it. That wasn't a question that he wanted to answer. He didn't want to answer _any_ questions, really. He was just here for the free food. _Maybe this wasn't such a good idea._ He thought to himself. But he couldn't bring himself to get up and leave. The prospect of food in his stomach was too much to pass up.

The silence at the table was broken when Aaron turned towards the door and said "Looks like Dave and JJ made it."

"Wonder if Prentiss will." Derek said with a chuckle. He and Aaron exchanged a look and something in that told Spencer he was missing a joke.

Spencer curled a little lower into his chair and he drew the menu up off the table to give his hands something to do as these two new people, Dave and JJ they'd been called, came up. He felt a moment of gratitude when neither of them took the chair beside him. That allowed Gabe to stay there with him. Though the man wasn't talking, his presence was still a comfort and Spencer didn't want to lose that. He felt just a little safer with Gabe right there. Safe enough to peek up through his bangs and watch the two newcomers take their seats. Derek didn't waste any time. "Hey Rossi, JJ, this is our guest this morning, Spencer. We're kind of giving him a thank you for the tip he gave us yesterday."

"So you're the one that gave Morgan that tip, huh?" Dave said. "We definitely owe you then, kiddo. What you gave us really helped out." His smile was open and friendly and he had this sort of 'kind uncle' look to him, but there was definite intelligence in his eyes and a sharpness that told him that this man didn't miss much. It sort of reminded Spencer of one of the psychologists he'd had to meet with when they'd initially taken his mom away. That man had had a way of seeing past what Spencer said and past the fronts he put up and down to what he was trying to hide underneath it all. Dave had that same look to him. Spencer vowed to be very, very careful what he said.

The woman, however, had a much softer look to her, and the way she smiled at him reminded him for just a moment of his mother on one of her good days. "It's really nice to meet you, Spencer."

Manners his mother had bred into him had Spencer responding to her words. "It's nice to meet you too, ma'am." He turned his head towards Dave and gave a small nod to include him. "And you too, sir."

"No 'sir' here." Dave told him. "Just Dave or Rossi works fine."

"And I'm Jennifer, but you can call me JJ if you want. Everyone else does." JJ said with a smile.

He just ducked his head down again and, to his relief, no one said anything about it. In fact, no one really said anything to him at all for a little bit. He didn't know that they could all clearly see just how uncomfortable he was. They struck up conversation amongst each other in hopes of helping him to relax a bit. The only time he had to speak was when the waitress came over to take their orders and deliver their drinks. Before the food was delivered, a pretty black haired woman that Spencer recognized form the crime scene joined them—she wore sunglasses, just like he was—and she was introduced as Emily. After that, Spencer was free to just sit back and observe as this group of profilers talked and laughed in a friendly, open way that Spencer had never before found himself a part of. They made an effort to make him a part of it, too. Though they were the ones doing all the talking, they were doing it in the form of telling him stories. Little things about each other that made the others smile or laugh, but told Spencer a little more about them. Spencer actually found himself smiling at them a time or two. Most of his attention was on the food that was delivered, of course, but he was careful to eat slowly and to split his attention between the people and the food. The company was almost better than the food. Spencer hadn't realized how starved for normal human contact he'd become.

It relaxed him enough that by the time they were about halfway through their food, he didn't even flinch when JJ asked him "So, how old are you, Spence?"

The shortened version of his name surprised him a little. He kind of liked it, though. He didn't, however, like Gabe jabbing an elbow at him and wiggling his eyebrows, saying "_Oooo—Spence._" He ignored the man's jab and comment and found himself actually answering her. "I just turned fourteen, ma'am."

She waggled her fork at him. "Ah, ah. None of that ma'am, remember?"

His cheeks heated a little bit. "Sorry."

"No problem. So you're fourteen. That makes you, what, a freshman, right?" She asked.

The heat in his cheeks grew stronger. This was something that Spencer had found people always reacted a little weird to. Why, he didn't know. He'd never understood that. But it happened all the same. He'd learned to mostly ignore that. His Mom had always told him to never be ashamed of his intelligence. That it was something he should be proud of. "No, ma'am…JJ." He caught himself and corrected it, making her smile. He smiled back shyly at her. "I'm not in school, actually. I graduated when I was twelve."

He'd been expecting some kind of reaction from them. What he hadn't expected was for the whole table to go quiet. "Twelve?" Derek repeated incredulously. "You're saying you graduated high school at _twelve_?"

"Yes. I was going to attend Caltech afterwards, but…" he realized what he was about to say and quickly cut himself off, dropping his gaze down to his half empty plate and letting his hair come down to shelter his face. He'd been planning on going but the Walters had refused to let him. They'd said he was too young to be out of the house alone. Besides, as Gil had pointed out "What school's going to want some little mutant freak, huh?"

No one commented on his little slip. They smoothed right past it, focusing instead on the original topic. "Wow. You've got to be a bit of a genius to manage that." Emily said.

"I don't believe that intelligence can be accurately quantified." Spencer replied automatically. It was a debate he'd had countless times over the years. "I've never had my IQ tested, my Mom didn't believe in that, but I do have an eidetic memory and the ability to read twenty thousand words per minute."

The switch from the quiet kid to the one spouting off words like 'quantified' and talking about an eidetic memory obviously surprised the others. He had the full attention of the table now and he had to fight not to squirm under their combined stares. "What's an eidetic memory?" JJ asked him curiously.

"Isn't that kind of like a photographic memory?" Derek asked.

That was a close enough description. It was one that people were more familiar with, Spencer knew, and one they understood better. "Sort of. It's just slightly different. Photographic implies a purely physical remembrance while eidetic covers other senses as well. Though it mostly pertains to things I see, it doesn't exclude my other senses."

"Do you remember everything you see, then?" Aaron asked him. He, too, sounded curious now.

Spencer nodded. "When they tested me, I remembered everything they asked me to, plus more. They gave me a copy of one of their textbooks that I'd never seen before and had me read as much as I could in ten minutes and then they asked me to repeat back to them what I read. Then they had me repeat it back the next day." He gave a casual shrug of his shoulder, a little more comfortable with this. They weren't treating him like he was a freak or anything like that. And facts were always much easier for Spencer to give. "I recited it back verbatim each time."

"Is that a part of your mutation?" Emily asked.

And just like that, Spencer shut down. They could all actually see it happen. His expression became calm, neutral, and his body language was clearly shut off from them now. In every way possible he drew back from them. His voice even lost that relaxed edge to it and became the soft, calm tone once more. "No, ma'am." Was all he said. Then he turned is full attention to the remaining food on his plate and he said nothing more through the rest of the meal.

* * *

><p>Derek kept his eye on Spencer throughout the meal. The more he watched, the more he found his heart aching. Something about this kid just seemed to reach out to him. Part of it was the different contradictions that he presented. The calm, collected young man he'd been when Derek had first spoken with him. Then, the scared kid getting beat up in the alley, the one who had flinched back from a kind hand and who had looked so stunned by the kindness that Derek and Aaron had extended. Then the shy young man who couldn't even seem to look up at them without blushing and who kept quiet through most of the meal—a meal he had even been hesitant about ordering, double checking to make sure it was okay when the waitress had asked him what he wanted. Then he'd changed yet again, stunning them all with this amazingly brilliant mind they discovered had been hidden underneath all this. A genius! The kid was a genius! And then, with one question, quick as a flash he was back to the calm and collected young man he'd been yesterday.<p>

For someone who was only fourteen, the kid had many different faces he wore. Masks that he'd probably had to learn the hard way.

The little bit that Derek had learned about the boy played in his mind. Though he hadn't told the others, he'd asked Penelope to dig into the boy's life for him just a bit. He couldn't explain why he wanted so badly to know about him. He just knew that there was something in him that didn't seem to be able to just walk away from him. What he'd learned from her had only made that 'something' even stronger. Taken away from his mentally ill Mom at eleven after having lived alone with her for a year, her sole caretaker. His father had waived all right when social services had contacted him. He'd eventually been placed with the Walters family and Penelope had found multiple requests to social services to go out and check on the boy and to investigate allegations. Each time they passed whatever inspection was done. Derek had no idea how. The sheer number of allegations, not just the two reports from Spencer—one given to his social worker and one to the local police—but from neighbors who expressed concern for the boy, those should have been enough to warrant at least removing him from the home while the family was investigated. Derek hadn't been able to understand why that hadn't happened.

A phone call with the boy's social worker, Janice, answered that question. She'd been quite honest with Derek by the end of the call, obviously either not concerned with what she said or too frustrated to worry about it. "You've got to understand the position I'm in here, agent." She'd told him. "There's nothing really I can do. He has no living relatives that'll take him, there's no room in our group home, and none of the other families on the list are willing to take on a mutant child. The Walters are the only family that are willing to have him. Until I find absolute proof of any wrongdoing in that house, it's either he stays there, or he stays in a juvenile facility. Those are the only places we have for him."

So the kid's choices were either a juvenile facility or a home that he hated but was free to at least escape from. Those were no choices at all. Everything Derek saw only confirmed his opinion that _something_ was happening at the Walters house. Why else would Spencer keep running from there?

All of this was the reason that Derek had been up early and walking to the diner with Aaron before everyone else. He'd wanted a chance to talk to his boss alone to try and get his opinion on this. There had to be something they could do! He'd barely finished explaining it all when they'd heard the sounds of the fight in the alley and they'd stumbled upon the very boy they'd been talking about.

"Well, I think I'm stuffed." Dave's voice broke into Derek's thoughts. The man smiled at them all. "I'm going to go ahead and head back to the hotel and relax away a bit of this breakfast. Spencer, it was nice to meet you. The rest of you, I'll see you in a few hours at the jet."

The next few minutes were spent with goodbyes as not only Dave, but JJ and Emily left as well. Only Aaron stayed behind. Derek had figured he would. Aaron was both boss and friend and he wasn't going to leave Derek to handle this all alone. It was a delicate situation and one that needed to be carefully handled. It was also one that they couldn't walk away from. They were too invested in this now. With what they'd learned they couldn't just walk away and leave this young man to whatever fate came his way. They had to see this through.

Derek folded his arms on the table and leaned down on them to bring himself down a little more towards Spencer's eye level. He wanted the boy to be relaxed because he probably wasn't going to like what came next very much. "Spencer…I want to ask you a few things. Important things."

That question drew Spencer's attention up from his empty plate. He looked across the table and saw that Derek was watching him with a serious, intent look on his face, and Aaron was paying just as close of attention. Derek could actually see it on his face as Spencer braced for whatever was to come. That neutral look was back on his face when he inclined his head in a silent permission.

Derek met Spencer's gaze head on, trying to meet his eyes even through the sunglasses, and he hoped that Spencer didn't try to run. The last thing he wanted to have to do was chase him down. But there was a chance that maybe, just maybe, his next words might send the kid into flight mode. Aaron knew it too and despite his casual pose, he was braced and ready to move if he had to. Derek drew in a breath and then got this ball rolling. "You know that, legally, we're required to take you back home. You're a runaway. But before we do, there are some things I want to know. First of all…are you happy, Spencer? I mean, with the Walters. Are you happy there?"

There was an instant tension in Spencer's body that shouted out his answer clearer than any words. For a second, it even looked like he was going to start to rise. But Derek yet again witnessed the kid tipped his head in that listening position. This time, his tension didn't fade right away. It actually got worse for a brief moment before finally, little by little, going down. Finally his attention focused back on Derek once more and the words he spoke were full of a lie that they could all hear. "I'm okay. They're really nice people." He sat up a little straighter and he visibly drew himself together. "I'd rather not sit here and answer the same questions I've answered countless times before, agents. It never makes any difference. If you're going to take me home, may we go ahead and get this done? I'm not all that fond of interrogations on a full stomach."


	4. Chapter 4

Spencer stayed quiet as he waited by Derek's side for Aaron to return with the car. A car that was going to take him back to the one place he didn't want to go to. With every passing second he battled against the urge inside of him to run as fast as his legs could carry him. To run and hide where no one could find him and no one would be able to take him back there. Back to that little hellhole. The only thing that kept him standing here were the practical words that Gabe had given him earlier when he'd been so ready to run at the table.

"_Running away from cops is one thing, Spencer. You don't want to be on the run from FBI agents._"

There was no denying the truth of that statement. It was the only thing that had kept him in place. Yet as each minute passed, he was beginning to think that he'd rather deal with running from the Feds than going back to the Walters. He didn't want to go back there. He didn't want to have to deal with them. And he sure as hell didn't want to have to go anywhere near Gil. Just thinking of him had Spencer wanting to throw up the breakfast he'd just eaten. His eidetic memory easily brought up the feel of the man's hands, the smell of his foul breath, and the pain…God, the _pain_.

"_Spencer_" Gabe's voice was sharp, a deliberate move to snap him out of his thoughts. "_Spencer, come on. Snap out of it. You're not there yet. You're still here. It's okay. You're safe._"

Though he knew it was childish, Spencer ignored him, just the same as he'd been ignoring stupid Agent Morgan. It was their fault he was going to have to go back. It didn't matter that Derek and Aaron were legally obligated to take him back there. It didn't matter that Gabe hadn't really _made him_, just offered sound advice. Right now Spencer needed someone to be mad at and they were the only ones here. Was it childish? Yes. Immature? Yes. Did he care? No. He kept perfectly silent no matter what either one said to him and when Aaron finally pulled up in a black SUV, Spencer climbed into the backseat and buckled in without saying a word.

It didn't escape his notice that Derek and Aaron shared another of those speaking looks that they seemed so good at. Was that something that was unique to profilers? Or was it just unique to adults in general? He remembered moments when he was much younger when his parents would look at each other and seem to have an entire conversation in one look. That was back during the good days. The days when they were still a family and they were happy. Or, at least, as happy as they'd ever been.

The car stayed quiet the whole way out towards the Walters. Spencer didn't question how they knew where to go. He just assumed that they'd read his file and probably even talked to his social worker. They had to have reported to someone that they'd found him and were bringing him home. Aaron probably took care of all that while he was away from them. Naturally. Take care of the messy stuff while Spencer wasn't there to overhear and potentially cause trouble. Damn these people. _Damn them_. No, not just them. Himself, too. He'd been the one stupid enough to go with them instead of running right from the start. He'd been dumb enough to go to breakfast and he'd been dumb enough to not excuse himself to the bathroom and slip away before they got to this point. There had been countless opportunities for him to run and he hadn't taken them and now he was being forced back _there_.

_You can make it_, he told himself. _Just a few days. A few days for the cops to lay off, for Gil to burn out his needs and let you out of the basement, and then you can run again. You can survive a few days. You've done it before. Remember, it's better than the alternative. Just suck it up and deal with it for just a few days and then life can go back to normal._ He let out a soft scoff that carried an extremely cynical edge to it. Yeah, normal. How pathetic was it when normal involved sleeping in a little bolt hole that he'd found, with old blankets over him and a knife under his pillow?

It took forever and yet no time at all for them to reach their destination. Spencer didn't bother watching. He knew what was coming. He just sat in the backseat with his eyes closed until the car slowed and then, finally, came to a stop. Only then did Spencer open his eyes once more. When he did, he found both men turned around to face him, and the looks on their faces almost made him feel bad for them. Almost. They looked honestly upset by having to bring him here. Derek actually looked like he was in pain somehow. "I'm sorry, Spencer." Aaron said softly.

Derek didn't apologize. He went a different route entirely. "Let us help you." He pleaded. That's what those words were; a plea. "If they're hurting you, you can tell us. No one should ever hurt a child, no matter what they believe."

"But I'm not a child, am I?" Spencer said in that too-old voice of his. Gathering his courage, he unbuckled himself, opened the door and slipped out of the car.

The house looked just the same as the last time he'd been here months ago. Not a bit of it had changed. Then he saw the front door open and there was Millie standing there, looking at him with a stern look that twisted his stomach just as it always did. The sternness faded quickly when the car doors behind him signified that the agents were actually getting out. Then, she switched to full 'mother mode'. She fisted her hands on her hips and shook her head at him. "Spencer Reid, we've been worried sick about you!" she scolded him when he got close. The look she pulled on was probably supposed to make it look like she actually cared a whit about his return. Spencer didn't tell her that it fell far short, in his opinion. He could see straight through the mask to the truth underneath, the anger and disgust that she couldn't completely hide from him, and the fear.

Behind him, Spencer just faintly hear Derek's voice, barely audible on the breeze. "This doesn't feel right, Hotch."

"I know." Aaron murmured back. Then Spencer move right up beside him and he caught Spencer's shoulder just long enough to stop him. The minute Spencer stopped, flinching backwards, Aaron let go of him and moved to stand right in front of him. Those dark, serious eyes of his carried a sudden intensity that left Spencer frozen in place, any words he'd been planning on saying now dead on his lips. He just stood there and stared as Aaron looked down at him. "I need you to listen to me, Spencer." Aaron said in a low, grave voice. "Anyone with eyes can see that you don't want to be here. Morgan and I, we want to help you, but we can't do that if you don't talk to us. If there's something going on here, if they're hurting you, you can tell us. You need to tell us. We want to help, Spencer."

Oh, God, he wanted so badly to believe that. He did! But too many things stood in the way. "I can't." A hint of his true emotion broke through and made his soft voice throb in the air between them. "I won't go to juvie. Someone like me wouldn't last a full day in there. Here, I can at least get away. I can find somewhere safe. What other choice do I have?" In those last words there was a sort of plea. A hint of the child that still lived buried deep inside of him. A child who had once trusted the adults around him; who had believed that law enforcement was there to help, not harm. A child who had who had once believed that there were actually good people in the world.

He heard soft footsteps coming up beside him and then Derek was right there. Slowly, deliberately, the man lifted a hand and put it on Spencer's shoulder, and though Spencer jerked instinctively, he didn't move out from underneath that touch. He needed the kindness and support that was felt there. "I will do everything in my power to keep you from going into a juvenile facility." Derek promised him firmly. "If it comes down to it, I'll apply for emergency custody and you can come home with me. But you have to say the word here, Spencer. The power's yours right now. This is your choice."

That child in him pushed forward even more and it was begging him to do it, to place his trust in these men and let them fix this. For once in his life just let the adults clean up the mess. Wasn't it finally their turn? Wasn't it time for someone to take care of him? "_Tell them_" A voice whispered on the air. The soft brush of a ghostly hand against his back showed Gabe's support. It gave him the courage he hadn't known he'd had.

"The basement." Spencer croaked out. He couldn't believe he was saying this; couldn't believe that he was trusting them. When had he last trusted someone? When was the last time he'd actually believed in the sincerity of someone's words? For so long now his life had been about distrust and fear and he was tired of it. Just so damn tired. Letting out a shuddering breath, he whispered "Let me show you the basement" and in so saying, he handed his fate and his trust over to these two men.

"Let me go look alone, Spencer." Aaron said carefully.

Spencer drew in another breath and shook his head. He couldn't just let him go. He needed to be able to show him things; things that weren't right out in the open. Things that Aaron wouldn't know how to find. He had to show them.

When he started towards the house, he was absurdly grateful that Derek's hand never left his shoulder.

They met Millie on the porch and the look on her face showed her confusion. "What's going on here?" She asked them, looking from one to the next. "Has he done something? Is there some kind of trouble?"

"We just need to take a look at something real quick, ma'am." Aaron told her. In contrast to her confusion, he was the epitome of calm and control.

Their conversation was unimportant. She would understand soon enough what was going on. Spencer just scooted around her and continued to lead Derek inside. He walked through the living room, right past the familiar furniture, past that damn belt that hung threateningly on the wall, right past all of it until he reached the door that led to the basement. His hand was rock steady when he reached out to open that door. It was the same as it always was every time he came down here. Each time he went into the basement it was like he changed. As if passing through the doorway turned him into an entirely different person. In here, who he was got pushed back, far back, and the obedient little boy came forward. The rest of him watched on like an observer. It was like he detached from himself in a way.

He'd researched it, once, and he knew the clinical term for it. Dissociation. Depersonalization. A coping mechanism to help him get through the moments that he otherwise might not be able to handle. Whatever it was, it was his only way of coping here. The only way he'd ever made it through what went on down here. With the manifestation of his powers, that sensation had only grown stronger. Sometimes he'd actually done what Gabe told him was 'astral projection'. He'd literally separated his soul from his body so that he was free floating in the room actually watching what was happening to him from outside his body.

He watched himself as he led Derek, with Aaron behind them, down the stairs and past the mattress lying on the ground. Past the little cupboard where he'd spent time when he'd caused too much trouble. He watched himself lead them right over to the water heater. There he squatted down and felt around until he found the board he needed. Once he did, he pulled. It was a strange thing to watch him doing all this. Like this, he didn't feel the fear he'd felt before. He didn't feel the sickness in his gut. Really, he didn't feel anything. It was like he was swaddled in a blanket with his emotions on the outside of it. He felt nothing as he reached past the board to the hidden safe and as his fingers twisted the numbers that Gil didn't know he knew. Once the safe was open, he reached inside and pulled out the contents. Then he turned and held them out to the agents.

Aaron, Derek, and even Millie all looked at the items in Spencer's hands. The shackles and the stack of DVD's. With a face and voice that had gone slightly blank, devoid of emotion, Spencer asked "Is this proof enough, agents?"

* * *

><p>What came next seemed to be in a sort of blur for Spencer. One minute he was there and holding those out to them and the next minute he was being taken upstairs and outside to the car where he was very carefully assisted into the backseat by a hand he thought might be Derek's. It must've been, because that was Derek right there now, worried eyes meeting his as he told Spencer to "It's okay, kid. Everything's going to be okay now. You're safe here." He knew that those words were important and he should probably say something to them but he couldn't quite seem to do it.<p>

Time got a little blurry again. It seemed like no time had passed and yet when he blinked his eyes he realized that there were other cars here now, other SUV's and some police cars, and that nice woman from earlier, JJ, she was standing outside this SUV with Derek, talking to him. They both kept looking in towards Spencer. Through the crack in the window he caught words like 'shock' and 'hospital' and even 'social worker' and he quickly zoned that out. He didn't want to think about any of that. He knew what those words meant and they weren't pleasant words. This blank, drifting place, this was pleasant. This was safe. Here, he didn't have to think about what he'd just done. He didn't have to think about the potential implications of this or worry about what was going to happen to him. He didn't have to worry about ending up in juvie or, God forbid, somehow ending up back here with Gil even more furious than he'd been before.

Reality didn't really start to kick back in until they arrived at the hospital. A part of Spencer had heard them talking about this before and he'd known they were coming here. He just hadn't thought about it until it was too late. Hospitals were always hard for him to be in for so many different reasons. Not only had his experiences in them rarely been good, there was also so much _death_ here, so many spirits everywhere. It took a constant, conscious effort to keep himself shielded from it all. That was easier than it had once been but in his stressed state it left him with almost nothing left over to maintain his usual calm demeanor.

He locked his shields tightly around his mind as he let Derek and JJ lead him inside. They took him to the emergency room and there was a moment of hushed talking before a woman came around the desk and walked towards him. She stopped in front of him and smiled welcomingly at him. "Hello there, Spencer. Why don't you come on back here while the agents take care of some paperwork out here?"

The idea of going back there alone had Spencer's stomach clenching. He knew what hospitals were like. He'd been this route before multiple times now. Looking back at the two agents, words rose to the tip of his tongue. He couldn't have said them to Derek. If it'd been just him there, he wouldn't have been able to say the words, to make himself appear that weak. But JJ was there with them with her kind smile and that warmth in her eyes that was so like his mother's and the scared little boy inside of the fourteen year old reached out to that. "Will you come with me?" he asked her so softly he wasn't sure she heard him.

But she did. He watched her whole face go soft and that warmth in her eyes grew a little more. "Of course I will."

"Agent, these kinds of exams can get a little…personal." The nurse warned her.

"Then I can turn my back, or Spence can ask me to leave." JJ said simply. She walked right up to Spencer's side and firmly put herself at his side. "Let's go."

Derek watched the two head off together and he knew that Spencer would be okay with JJ at his side. She seemed to set him at ease in ways the rest of them didn't and right now that was what he needed. Reality was starting to kick back in for him and his hard outer shell wasn't working at its usual strength. The kid inside was peeking through quite a bit. Derek doubted that would last; the shell he'd built had become too ingrained in him. But for now, with the shock still there keeping him off balance, he was open and exposed and terrified. There was no one better to have with him than JJ. Spencer seemed to bring out the mother in her and he needed that.

Leaving him in JJ's capable hands, Derek turned his attention to what he could handle. The paperwork in front of him and, as he saw the elevator doors open, the social worker that had just arrived. He had a few choice things to say to that woman right there.

* * *

><p>The exam was most definitely a personal one. No sooner had they gotten Spencer in the room than they had him changing into a gown. JJ stood outside the screen for that to give him privacy and she didn't come back in until he gave a soft "Okay"<p>

When she came back in, she took one look at his face and hurried to stand right beside him. He was sitting on the edge of the bed with his arms drawn in tightly around himself and his head bowed low. His sunglasses were still on his face. JJ came right up to him and Spencer was stunned to find that he didn't even flinch when she reached out and rubbed lightly at his arm. "It's going to be okay, Spence." Her voice was pitched low, with that gentle sort of warmth and reassurance that mothers everywhere use when children are sick or scared. "You're doing the right thing."

He shivered and drew a little tighter on his shields. "I know." And he did know that. Even as scared as he was, he did know that. Knowing he was doing the right thing was one of the things that was helping him get through this. "I just…I don't like hospitals."

"I'm not that fond of them, either. Too many needles."

"At least they treat _you_ like you're human."

A stunned look crossed JJ's face. There was no chance for her to comment on Spencer's aching words, though. A knock sounded on the door and then a doctor poked her head in. "All clear?" She called out. At the sight of Spencer sitting on the bed and JJ beside him, she smiled and came the rest of the way in, shutting the door behind her. She was a matronly looking woman, a slender as a reed and with a braid of dark brown hair that hung down to the small of her back. Her blue eyes were bright and intelligent and there was no sign of anything negative in them. "Hello there. I'm Dr. Melinda Mann and I'll be your doctor here today. And you must be Spencer, right?" She held her hand out to Spencer.

He didn't take it. If anything, he drew back a little without even realizing it. Melinda didn't miss a beat. She just drew her hand back in. Her smile didn't even falter. Looking down at the chart in her hand, she said "All right, then, why don't we go ahead and get started here."

What came next wasn't like his usual experiences here. Melinda was kind and caring and gentler with him than he was accustomed to. She treated him like he was, well, like he was _normal_. She was careful, never pushing him harder than he was comfortable with, and she was respectful of his limits when it was obvious that a touch was upsetting him. She asked questions; questions he knew he had to answer. Questions about scars he bore. He only answered the ones that concerned Gil and anything that had happened with the Walters. Any that came from anywhere else, he said nothing, and she didn't press the point when he didn't answer.

The only time that JJ had to leave was when it came time for a more in-depth physical exam. Even then, she only stood outside the curtain. Spencer didn't want her in there to see but he didn't want her gone, either. What if the only reason Melinda was being nice was because there was someone here to witness it? He'd seen too many people be nice in front of witnesses and turn into bastards when there was no one to see. He wasn't going to take that chance now.

It took almost an hour for Spencer's exam to be done. When Melinda was finished, she thanked Spencer and told him he was clear to get dressed. Spencer barely waited until she was out and JJ on the other side of the curtain before he quickly started to scramble back into his clothes. He was lucky he was fast, too. He'd barely gotten into them when there was another knock on the door. He could hear as JJ went over to answer it and there was a soft murmur of voices. Then her footsteps coming back and her gentle voice came from the other side of the curtain. "Spence? Your social worker, Janice, is here. Are you ready to talk with her?"

_No_. "Yes. I'm dressed."

JJ drew the curtain back and her steady eyes met his. "Do you want me to stay for this, too?"

_Yes_. "No, it's okay." As much as he wanted her there, he needed to start getting himself back in control again. He needed to man up and deal with this. And he didn't want to have to say the things he knew he was going to have to say with JJ listening in. Bad enough that she'd seen so much already. Some of these details he just couldn't say in front of her, the same as he wouldn't be able to say them to his Mom. It just didn't feel right.

The look she gave him said that she understood. "Okay. I'll let her know you're ready then." Reaching out, she caught his hand in hers and gave a small squeeze. "You're doing really well, Spence. You really are."

"Thanks."

By the time JJ left the room and Janice made her way over to the opening in the curtain, the scared boy that had been showing so far was long gone, once more buried deep. Spencer had found his inner strength again and he drew it around him now. The calm, neutral expression was back, and it stayed in place as he lifted his chin and murmured "Hello, ma'am."

* * *

><p>While the two in there had their meeting, another meeting was going on out in the waiting room. Dr. Melinda Mann was giving her report to Derek and JJ and the sweet smile that she'd shown in the room was long gone. There was temper on her face and in her eyes as she glared at the two agents. "I hope your presence means that you've caught whoever the hell hurt that boy."<p>

"We've someone in custody, ma'am." JJ reassured her.

"Good." Fire snapped in her eyes. "Someone's hurt that boy quite a bit in his past. Most of it's healed over, though he's got some fresh bruises on his right thigh and stomach that are going to pain him for a while."

Derek nodded at that. "Those would be from this morning. When we found him a group of kids had jumped him in an alley."

"Well they didn't manage to break anything, just bruise it. Those should heal up just fine with some time. Physically, Spencer has no serious injuries. As I said they're all healed over and scarred now. But he's definitely malnourished. He needs to gain _at least_ fifteen pounds to put him into a safer range, and even then he could still do with a bit more weight. He's not getting enough vitamins, either. Basically, he's malnourished, just slightly dehydrated, hyperglycemic, and he's anemic. I have no idea how long he's been like this but I know he can't last like this much longer. He needs care, now." Making a quick notation on the chart she held, she set her pen down and looked back up at them. "I'm having him admitted and starting treatment immediately. I want him here for at least the next forty eight hours until I'm sure he's out of the danger zone. I'm also requesting a psychologist come down and speak with him. Is there a parent that I need to speak with?"

"No, no. Currently, he's a ward of the state." JJ said.

"Well, then, I'll do everything I can to get that boy back in good physical health." Melinda told them. "You guys work on making sure whoever did this to him never gets the chance to do it again."

* * *

><p>The hospital room seemed eerily quiet once Janice had left. Staring down at his hands, Spencer tried to still the trembling in them. Having to answer all of those questions was like he'd had to live the moments all over again. The memories were as clear for him as if they'd just happened. They were all slamming around in his mind, clamoring for attention, and he was just too broken down, too tired, to fight them off as he usually did. They played over and over until his stomach was churning and he knew he wasn't going to be able to keep it all inside. Slapping one hand to his mouth, Spencer scrambled from the bed, his legs barely supporting him.<p>

When he reached the bathroom he practically fell to the ground by the toilet. He made it in just enough time to empty the contents of his stomach. His hands curled tightly around the edge of the seat while his body heaved and heaved. Everything he'd ingested recently came flying back up. Thinking of what exactly had been in his system brought on another round that was so strong it hurt.

Only vaguely did he hear a sound from nearby. He was just too sick to care. Then all of a sudden he felt a presence by him and someone was touching his hair and he jumped, trying to jerk away from the unknown touch, only movement brought on more nausea and he was heaving again, tears streaming down his cheeks from pain and sickness and absolute terror. He couldn't breathe past it, could barely hear past the pounding of his own heart and the horrible gagging noises that just wouldn't stop. But through it, a voice finally broke in, soft and yet strong. "It's okay, kid. It's all right." The voice soothed him. Spencer's mind recognized that voice and his body slumped against the toilet. Derek. It was Derek!

The hand at his hair had gathered all of his hair together, keeping it back from his face, and another hand came now to rub at his back soothingly. All the while Derek kept up the steady stream of reassuring words. "Just let it out, Spencer, it's okay. I got you. Just let it out. I'm right here, kid."

He stayed there, too. Through all of Spencer's shaking and vomiting and tears, Derek stayed right at his side, stroking that hand over his back in a way that reminded Spencer of younger years, when his mother had still been well and she'd care for him while he was sick. Derek's touch carried that same gentle feel to it and the same promise of comfort. Maybe that was why he found himself leaning against the man when the vomiting was finally done. Past and present merged together and through the daze that settled over him, he latched on to that promised comfort. He let it envelope him as he slumped sideways and Derek's body was there to cradle his. Gentle arms supported him against a firm chest. There was the sound of running water and Spencer felt someone coming near. So out of it, all he could manage was a slight whimper, his weak body trying to push towards Derek's safety just a little more. He felt that hand rubbing at his back again and Derek was shushing him, soothing him. "It's just JJ, buddy. He's just bringing us a wet cloth to wipe your face with, that's all. Shh now, it's okay."

The cool cloth came and Derek wiped down his face with it. Then came a cup and Derek had him swish and spit, clearing the foul taste out of his mouth, and the cup was taken away and the toilet flushed. Once that was done, the arms around him shifted. Before Spencer could even think about protesting, Derek's voice was at his ear, gentle and encouraging. "Let's get you up off this floor, kid. There's a nice clean bed out there that I think is calling your name. Come on now, that's it. Just hold on to me and I'll get you out there, okay? That's it, there you go."

Spencer followed his directions and he got his legs underneath him somehow. He had a feeling that Derek bore most of his weight. He felt like his head was wrapped and stuffed with cotton. He barely noticed as they moved across the floor, or as he got into the bed. But then Derek's touch shifted and blankets were drawn up, tucked around him, and a hand was smoothing his hair back from his face. The last thing he remembered was Derek's voice telling him "Just go to sleep, Spencer. You're safe now, kid. You just go ahead and go to sleep and someone will be here when you wake up."

Physically and mentally exhausted, Spencer couldn't hold out anymore and he slipped down into the dark.

* * *

><p>The next time Spencer woke, he once again found that he wasn't alone. A brief look showed him that Derek was sitting in a chair, legs stretched out, chin to chest, sound asleep. There was someone else there, too, standing near the foot of his bed. The man he'd met before; David Rossi. It had been his entrance that had woken Spencer up. The man looked at him with a kind expression on his face. When he realized Spencer was awake, he smiled at him. "Hey there."<p>

"Hi." Spencer whispered. His throat still felt slightly sore. He reached up to rub at it and realized for the first time that he had an IV in his hand. His gaze shot up to the bag on the stand and he looked at what was there. When he saw what he was being given, he relaxed. There was nothing serious up there. He could see they were trying to replace fluids and get some vitamins in his system. Good. He knew he needed that. He'd known he was getting into the dangerously unhealthy category, he just hadn't been able to do anything about it.

Dave put his hands out and rested them on the foot of the bed, watching as Spencer carefully adjusted himself. "I know it seems like a dumb question, but I'll ask it anyways. How're you doing, kiddo?"

The fact that Dave did ask, even with everything, was actually kind of nice. Spencer gave him a hesitant, shy smile and he shrugged one shoulder. "I've been worse. I could do with a shower, though."

That had Dave chuckling. "I'm sure we can manage that. I'll talk to your doctor."

The sound of their voices finally woke Derek. He sat up and rubbed a hand across bleary eyes. "Hey, Rossi." His voice was just slightly scratchy with sleep. "What's up?"

"I just came to let you know that we're getting ready to head to the jet. Aaron says everything here is in order for you and should go through before the end of the day, and that your time off was approved."

"Good." A yawn interrupted Derek's words and he gave a soft chuckle when it was done. "Guess I crashed harder than I thought."

"You might try getting some real sleep. I hear it does wonders." Dave said in a dry voice. He was smiling, though, and it offset the censure in his words. He turned that smile over to Spencer. "You take care of yourself, kiddo, and of this giant lug here, and we'll see you guys soon. Get some rest and get better. Let them take care of you; you deserve it." With those last, confusing words, Dave left them alone.

Spencer furrowed his brows as he thought over Dave's words. See you guys soon? What did he mean by that? And why was Derek staying behind when it was obvious his team was going back home? Why was he staying here—for a little while, too, judging by the fact that Dave had said his time off was approved. When Spencer turned to ask Derek these questions, he found the man wearing a wry look. "Well, I guess the cat's out of the bag." Derek said.

"The what?" Spencer's confusion grew. Cat? Why on earth were they talking about a cat and what had it been doing in a bag?

"The cat's out of the bag." Derek repeated. "It's a figure of speech. It means the secret isn't a secret anymore."

"Oh. Why didn't you just say that, then?"

Something that looked like humor wrinkled the corners of Derek's eyes. "I'll try to remember that next time."

He should. What a silly thing to say, talking about cats and bags when he really was talking about secrets. Spencer never understood those random, strange things that people said. "Well, what's this secret, then? What's going on?" Did it have something to do with where he was going to go? Or had…had Gil been released? Was that the problem? Maybe Gil had been released and Derek was sticking around because he was sorry and he had to take him back. That thought had Spencer's chest tightening with panic. He didn't want to go back. They'd promised him! He didn't want to go back!

His panic didn't get the chance to build. With one question, Derek took his panic and dashed it away, replacing it with complete and utter shock. "How'd you like to come home with me, Spencer?"

Wait, what? "Come home with you?" He had to have misheard him, right? There was no way he'd heard him right. Derek didn't want to take him home with him. When he'd said that earlier, Spencer had known he hadn't meant it. Had it?

Derek sure looked serious now. He didn't look like he was kidding or was confused or anything like that. "The options were a juvenile facility or the Walters. I just offered them an alternative. Emergency placement wasn't that hard to push through. I figured you'd rather have that than go into a facility."

He was right about that. He'd much rather stay with Derek than get stuck in a juvenile facility where his eyes would most likely get him killed rather quickly. There was just one thing that had Spencer hesitating; one thing that worried him. "Where do you live?"

"Washington DC."

DC? _DC_? Jesus. He wouldn't just be leaving, he'd be moving across the country! What about his Mom? There was a reason he hadn't just run from Vegas all together over the years. He'd wanted to stay as close to her as possible. Could he knowingly move all the way across the country from her? The idea of it clenched at his heart. He didn't want to be that far from her. When would he get to see her again? No one had let him in to see her since she'd been hospitalized and he continued to hold out hope that they'd take him there someday but if he lived in DC there was no way he'd be able to go and see her. Derek had been so nice so far, though. He'd done everything to prove himself a trustworthy guy. Spencer slanted a look up at him and decided that he had nothing to lose by asking this. "Before we go…can we go see my Mom? No one's let me see her since we were separated. Or, could we just find out the address so I can write her, maybe?""

He watched as Derek's eyes went wide. "No one's taken you to see your Mom in two _years_?"

Spencer looked down and tried to shrug as nonchalantly as possible. "They said she needed to be settled in, first. They didn't want to upset her."

He stared down at his lap and waited on bated breath for what answer Derek would give. He seemed upset that Spencer hadn't been able to see his mom. Did that mean that he'd take him? Oh, God, he hoped so! He wanted to see his mom so badly. It was like an ache in his stomach. He'd never gone so long in his whole life without seeing her. No one would even tell him how she was, other than the basic 'fine' that didn't really tell him anything. It didn't tell him how she was handling her meds, or if there was someone helping her take them on time, or if she was having good days or bad, or if she was eating or sleeping right. Did the people at this hospital know the little things that would help her? Did they know humming Eagles music would soothe her down when trying to wash her hair or clean her up? Did they know the types of foods she wouldn't eat, or how to convince her to eat some when her paranoia was high and she was sure the food was poisoned?

Derek's voice broke into his thoughts. "No problem, kid. I'll get it set up."

There was a thickness to Derek's words that would've had Spencer curious at any other time. For now, he was too caught up in what the man had said. His head shot up and he knew his eyes were wide but he just didn't care. "Really?"

"Yeah."

The simple word had Spencer's lips stretching into a rare, honest smile. "Thanks!" If he could just see her, he could explain to her that he wouldn't be around for a while, and he could make sure he had the address so that he could write her. Maybe it wasn't the most perfect of plans but it was better than what they had right now. He could write her every day so that she never had to be without him.

Maybe this wasn't going to be too bad. Maybe, just maybe, things were finally starting to look up for him.

Looking up, Spencer pulled off his sunglasses, deliberately meeting Derek's eyes head on. The fact that the man didn't flinch back from him and actually met his stare was the final deciding factor. Spencer drew in a breath and gave a small nod of his head. "Okay. I'll come home with you, Agent Morgan."

* * *

><p><em>So, guys, what do you think? Should I write a sequel to this? In the comic-verse or the movie-verse? Or my own mish-mosh of verses where the boys end up going to Xavier's together and being roommates? Should Spencer stay with Morgan for a while, or should he quickly end up at school? So many options! Let me know what you think and let me know if you all want to see more to this.<em>

_Reviews:_

_noobz40 – I'm not sure I want this to be a 4 chap story, lol. I actually love this a whole lot more than I thought I would. I haven't done this kind of AU before. But I wasn't sure how popular it would be, how it would go over, and I'm honestly not sure how to continue it. If I should end up with him growing up with Morgan and eventually joining the BAU, or if I should send him to the X-Men, or what I should do. So that's why I'm cutting it off here to see what people think and to try and figure out where to take this. I am glad to see you've liked it so far, though_

_Tempest103 – Thanks! I'm so glad you gave it a try and liked it. An I enjoy Gabe; he's fun to write. I hadn't thought of him being like the Gabe on SPN but I can kinda see where you get that. I liked his character on there :P He amused the heck out of me._

_IntoTheWilds – LOL Well, I see you liked it. Good! I was hoping you wouldn't mind what I did with it lol. I know it was supposed to just be a sort of one-shot thing but it kind of ran away with me here. Yeah. That happens sometimes. Anyways, here's the wrapped up story, and I hope it all turned out the way you liked, sugar bee! *hugs*_

_Anju Makaa – Thanks! Hope you liked this last chapter as much as the last ones :)_

_Shadow Stalker - *grins*You always leave the peppiest reviews! Thanks so much, hon. You're one heck of an ego boost. Hope you like this last chapter, too ;)_

_Guest – Thanks!_

_ 4 – Well hello again! You know, I've never written a power like this and I find that I enjoyed it more than I thought I would. There's so much potential in it. I can see it growing and becoming quite a bit if I keep on writing this. I hope you liked my ending here. An maybe I'll end up writing that sequel and we'll get to see Spencer grow up a little ;)_

_UPDATE- Story Continues with "Saying Goodbye"_


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